


once, i got punched in the face by confetti.

by vantas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Birthday Party, Developing Relationship, Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Snippets, Surprise Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 23:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13845525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vantas/pseuds/vantas
Summary: "I don't get it," Keith tells him, for what may very well be the nth time in the last ten minutes of this conversation.  His arms are crossed, his eyebrows furrowed as he drags his teeth over his lower lip.  Shiro shouldn't find the motion nearly as fascinating as he does, honestly, but being self-aware doesn’t really change anything.  "If they're gonna throw you a party, shouldn't they do it on your birthday?"Vaguely, Shiro thinks he should probably let Keith in on the whole point of a surprise birthday party.  Namely, the part where it's meant to be kept a secret from the person whose birthday is beingcelebrated— but that seems like a conversation for another time, and another place.  For now, Shiro runs a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to a random spot on the wall. It's less distracting than whatever the heck Keith is doing with his mouth at the moment.  "Because," he begins, a tinge of humor in his tone. "My birthday isn't actually on March, Keith. I was born on February 29th."Or: Four different birthdays, four different times Shiro gets to spend the day with the people he loves.





	once, i got punched in the face by confetti.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for [lolakins](http://lolakinsart.tumblr.com/) as part of the [vldexchange](https://vldexchange.tumblr.com/)! Admittedly, I rewrote this like 38973298432 times because I couldn't quite come up with something I was completely satisfied with — but I hope you're able to enjoy it, nonetheless!

* * *

**i.**

* * *

The first (attempted) surprise party of Shiro's life goes a little like this:

It's a Sunday. He's eight-years-old and two years into living under his grandfather's roof.  No one was in a mood for celebrating last year, least of all Shiro — but children are surprisingly resilient given enough time and care.  When he wakes up, the first thing he does is to shuffle over to the cartoon themed calendar his grandfather had nailed to his wall nearly two months ago.  He grabs a marker, stands on his tip toes, and carefully crosses out today's date. 

 _February 29th_.

His birthday.  The  _real_ one, according to the adults around him.  It has always struck him as odd, the fact that it's been celebrated on March for as long as he can remember, but it's not something he spends too much time thinking about before he's rushing off to see what awaits him. 

Breakfast proceeds as it usually does, disappointingly enough, though he can't stop himself from kicking his feet impatiently under the table. His grandfather raises an eyebrow at him, taking small sips from his morning coffee before addressing him. "Takashi," he says, voice gravely and deep and exactly like how Shiro imagines _all_ old people probably sound like.  "I know you're excited, but you have to remember: Patience yields focus."

Unfortunately for him, Shiro is eight-years-old and having none of that.  He scrunches up his nose, petulantly stabbing his spork into a waffle with _gusto._ Little droplets of syrup are sent flying everywhere, but Shiro hardly even notices them.  "You always say that," he grumbles, shoving a piece of his meal into his mouth and chewing with his mouth open. "When am I gonna get to see my presents?"

His grandfather rolls his eyes, nonchalantly sliding a napkin across the table to clean up the syrup. "Good things come to those who wait," he says with a sense of finality, though it's hard to miss the fondness in his tone. For the time being, Shiro believes him.

Good things  _do_ come to those who wait. 

It's just that, in the hubbub of the last two years, no one gave his grandfather the memo that his grandson happened to be terribly, horribly creeped out by  _clowns_. 

(But the cake still tasted great, even when  _most_ of it ended up in Mr. Goofy Milo's oversized, so it wasn't all that bad.)

* * *

**ii.**

* * *

It's not until years later that someone else gets the bright idea to  throw a surprise party for his birthday. 

Not that Shiro minds it, of course. He's rather flattered, if anything.  It's just that, due to a rather unfortunate (hilarious, really) series of events, Shiro ends up finding out about it before the party has even begun. 

He's standing on one of the balconies overseeing the simulator, his back pressed against the reinforced glass panes as Keith does his best imitation of the Big Bad Wolf in front of him. Which is to say, there is a lot of huffing and puffing happening at this very moment.  

"I don't get it," Keith tells him, for what may very well be the nth time in the last ten minutes of this conversation.  His arms are crossed, his eyebrows furrowed as he drags his teeth over his lower lip.  Shiro shouldn't find the motion nearly as fascinating as he does, honestly, but being self-aware doesn’t really change anything.  "If they're gonna throw you a party, shouldn't they do it on your birthday?"

Vaguely, Shiro thinks he should probably let Keith in on the whole point of a  _surprise_ birthday party.  Namely, the part where it's meant to be kept a secret from the person whose birthday is being celebrated — but that seems like a conversation for another time, and another place.  For now, Shiro runs a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to a random spot on the wall. It's less distracting than whatever the heck Keith is doing with his mouth at the moment.  "Because," he begins, a tinge of humor in his tone. "My birthday isn't actually on March, Keith. I was born on February 29th."

There is a momentary pause.

Shiro _hears_ more than he sees Keith shift where he stands, a soft _oh_ escaping the cadet's lips as the realization settles over him. When Shiro spares him a glance, he sees Keith staring back at him with wide eyes and a hint of a flush on his lips.  This expression lasts all of two seconds, right before it shifts on something that eerily reminds Shiro of a one of the members of the infamous (or rather,  _one_ member) Holt family. 

"Then," Keith begins, the corner of his lips quirking upward as he huffs out a laugh. "Is that what Matt meant, when he said your real age was—"

"Nope," Shiro cuts him off, his body moving of its own accord to (gently) slap a hand over Keith's mouth.  It does little to wipe the amused look off the cadet's face, but at least it keeps him from uttering a joke that was only funny the first time he heard it, maybe a little over two decades ago. "We're not doing that," he says, pulling his hand a way and subsequently moving away from the glass pane.  He shoves his hands in his pocket, ignoring the warmth he felt radiating from Keith's skin moments ago, and turns towards the door.  "As a matter of fact, we're leaving."

Keith laughs, but wastes no time in following him.  "Where are we going?"

"To crash my birthday party. It makes for good drama," he responds, easily.  Part of the drama may or may not involve his desire to see the look on Matt's face when he walks in unannounced. "You know how to pretend you're surprised, right?"

"Yeah," Keith replies, "Sure."

(Except, that is totally a lie. 

Keith is not a good actor by any means, but it's fine.  He still gets to see Matt and the rest of his friends fumble around in an attempt to salvage the whole of it, and while Shiro might feel the teeniest bit  _bad_ over ruining the surprise, it doesn't change the fact that they end up having a good time.)

* * *

**iii.**

* * *

He doesn't get to celebrate his next birthday on Earth. 

It doesn't mean that the people he loves don't find a way to surprise him on that day, however. 

They're millions upon millions of miles away from Earth, but still close enough to receive (delayed) transmissions from their planet.  Both Commander Holt and Matt regularly receive electronic correspondence from Colleen and Katie, meaning that it's not that odd of a concept, but Shiro still finds himself caught completely off guard when Matt hails him over, asking him to come take a look at the communications systems. 

"What is it?" he asks, settling into the space next to his co-worker.  

Matt gives him a wide, toothy smile.  It looks more like it belongs on the face of a dangerous predator, and less on the face of a genius who graduated early with the highest of honors. "That's for me to know, and you to find out," he replies, far too gleefully. "Why don't you take a look?"

He does. 

The sight of Keith's face displayed on one of the screens is enough to cause his heart to become stuck in his throat. 

 _"Hey, Shiro,"_ Keith says, his voice slightly distorted by the quality of the recording.  Still — it does little to keep Shiro from being struck by a sudden, painful sense of  _longing_.  He misses the Earth, yes, but not as much as the people ( _as the one person_ ) he left behind on it.  _"I think it's gonna be a while before you officially see this, but— It's February 28th over here. I know you usually celebrate it tomorrow, but I thought... you know? The sooner I get this out, the sooner you'll get to see it."_

Shiro watches as Keith takes a deep breath, pushing a stray strand of black hair out of his face and behind his ear.  He looks tired. Lonely.  If Shiro were a more selfish person, he'd say that Keith misses him just as much as Shiro misses being by his side.  But he isn't, and he won't ever dare to be. 

 _"Happy birthday,_ _"_ the boy on the screen whispers, his eyes meeting the camera's lens.   _"I'll be waiting for you once you get back to Earth, so be sure to bring me a space rock or something.  You promised, remember?"_

The video ends shortly after that, Keith idly sharing little bits and snippets of his life before leaning over to stop the recording.  The total length is of two (2) minutes, but it still feels like it both began  _and_ ended in a matter of seconds.  Despite himself, he finds reaching over to play the recording all over again. 

(Matt's expression makes much more sense, all things considered.)

* * *

**iv.**

* * *

Keeping track of time in space is, unsurprisingly, easier said than done. 

Between his captivity and the war against the Empire, Shiro never bothers to try and decipher what date it currently is on Earth. They don't have the time to spare for that kind of thing, first of all, and he gets the feeling that the knowledge would only serve to put a damper on his mood.  Not really the kind of thing he needs, when attempting to free the galaxy after ten thousand years of oppression. 

Days become weeks.  Weeks easily give way to months.  Months eventually blur into  _years_.  Shiro retains a vague knowledge of the fact that he must have had a birthday somewhere along the line, but nothing specific enough that he can sit down and pinpoint the exact date when he grew just a little bit older. 

It's the reason why, when he walks into the castle ship's lounge, he doesn't quite expect to get a faceful of coffitti hurled at him. 

 _"Happy birthday, Shiro!"_  

He's laughing before he realizes it, warmth spreading through his body as his friends ( _his family_ ) surrounds him.  It's embarrassing.  It's sweet.  It's not quite the type of birthday celebration one would find on Earth, the alteans adding their own particular flair to the festivities, but it's all Shiro could have asked for and so much more. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on: [tumblr](http://carcinology.tumblr.com/) • [twitter](https://twitter.com/beheads).


End file.
